


Begin Again

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Get ready, get set, go.....
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Begin Again

June 2012

Finn stood outside her dark condo front door, the hallway light barely doing it’s job for any of the residents on this floor. For once she stood empty handed; no case files, no tennis or softball gear, no pizza box, or Chinese take out containers. All that accompanied her was her purse slung over her shoulder and standing at her side, Emily, the seven year old girl whose parents perished in a carbon monoxide poisoning in their home just this morning. 

On the flip side, Emily carried a backpack, a stuffed animal and a plastic bag filled with whatever belongings the station would let her salvage right now until her house was a non active crime scene. The pair were an odd sight, standing in this dark hallway, not speaking, both exhausted yet unable to truly relax just yet. 

Finn turned her key into the lock and swung the front door open. Neither of them made the first move to walk inside. Emily peered into the foyer which gave her a view of the kitchen and a chunk of the living room. Finn flipped on the hallway light switch to give them better sight at the space. 

“It’s a little small,” Finn said sheepishly to the child who likely did not care “but it’s cozy, I have TV.”

She led with that statement since television seemed to be what kids adored the most these days, but again, she was met with silence from the shell shocked child. 

“Well, come on in then,” Finn said, stepping into her foyer and motioning for Emily who followed behind her at last. Finn shut and locked the door behind her, setting her purse down on the counter space. She glanced around her living area, searching for something to break the ice in this one way conversation, a distraction, a way out, anything. 

“If you want, you can put your stuff on the couch,” Finn suggested, waving her hands over to the sofa and armchair. Emily stared at Finn before placing her bag, and backpack down on the chair, continuing to cling to her stuffed animal dog. 

This would be an uphill battle, Finn could not help but think as the two stood awkwardly in the space. The social worker had done everything she could to arrange a foster home for the girl tonight but, like everything else these days, things were chaotic and overwhelming. Finn felt a twinge of sadness at the predicaments of these children, displaced by circumstance but normally would be thriving had it not been for fate. Finn glanced at the clock and noticed it was after six, likely way past this child’s normal dinner time but she offered any way; 

“Are you hungry? I can make something?” 

To Finn’s relief, Emily nodded. 

“Okay,” Finn said, turning to her kitchen, a barely used space except for sprawling out notes and case files. 

“What would you like to eat?” Finn asked but Emily just shrugged. 

“What did your parents cook for you?” Finn tried again but got no response. 

Sighing, she started rummaging through her refrigerator, finding nothing but beer bottles, old chinese take out, soft apples that likely needed to be thrown away, a carton of eggs with just two left inside, water bottles and a mostly empty jar of raspberry jelly; absolutely nothing edible within reach. 

Abandoning the refrigerator, Finn tried the cupboards finding cereal boxes, granola bars, wine, one can of soup and two cans of Spaghettios which seemed the least objectionable so she grabbed them. 

“How about this?” she offered, showing Emily the cans of Spaghettios. 

Thankfully the child nodded. Finn got to work, dumping the two cans into a metal pot and lighting the gas on her stove. She stirred the sloppy mess of noodles and sauce in a slow rhythmic motion, still processing today's events. Emily walked over to the bar stool and clambered up into it, clinging to her stuffed dog. She watched Finn stir the pot, staying silent the entire time. Finn set up two bowls and two spoons, testing the temperature of the food with a tap of her finger on a spoonful of noodles, determining it was indeed hot enough to eat. She scooped most of the noodles into Emily’s bowl while taking less for herself. She set the bowl down in front of the child, handed her the spoon and a ripped piece of paper towel, then waited, holding her breath, hoping it was right. 

Emily ate one handed, still refusing to let go of her stuffed dog, casually swirling her food around in between slow bites. Halfway through, Finn realized she had nothing to drink so clumsily filled a glass of water and stuck it in front of her. 

“I like juice,” Emily said softly, speaking her mind for the first time in hours. 

“I’m sorry,” Finn said “I don’t have any juice.”

Emily shrugged and sipped the water, slowly but at least she was taking it. 

Once it seemed like the child was satisfied with the meal, Finn ate from her own bowl, cringing at how bad this must look to an outsider, wondering how long it would take foster care to have an opening and if this child would ever be normal again. 

Emily cleared her entire bowl, pushing the empty bowl towards Finn who rinsed both bowls, spoons and the dirty pot in the sink, leaving all three to sit in water and soap suds. 

“Good job,” she praised the girl “what do you want to do now?”

Emily offered her signature silent shrug. Finn looked at the clock, seeing that it was after seven, she asked “What time do you usually go to bed?” 

“I take a bath after dinner and my homework and then I watch cartoons then mommy puts me to bed,” Emily recited now in a monotone voice. 

“A bath,” Finn repeated nervously “okay.” 

She worked her way into her messy bathroom, tossing aside towels and her curling iron, throwing back the shower curtain to see the state of her tub which was fortunately in good shape. She rinsed it down, pushing aside shampoo bottles to find a relatively full one tucked safely on the wire rack hanging from the showerhead. She found a drain stopper hidden in a sink drawer which she shoved in place and started filling the tub with warm water. Emily watched her, carrying her pajamas from her sleepover folded neatly in her hands, her stuffed dog finally set down somewhere safe most likely. 

“Are those clean?” Finn asked, looking at the pajamas in Emily’s hand. 

“Yes, Miss Carol washed all of our stuff,” Emily explained of the mother of her friend who hosted the sleepover last night. 

“All right,” Finn said “don’t worry, I can wash your clothes too if we need to.”

She finished filling the tub and stopped the water, hearing the usual repetitive drip of water leaking from the faucet. It filled the silence with its echo as it dripped into the full tub. Finn found two clean towels on her shelf behind the door and set them on the closed toilet seat along with the shampoo bottle and soap. 

“Okay,” Finn said “you go ahead and I’ll wait outside until you’re done and if you need help just call me okay?” 

“There’s no toys,” Emily complained now, piercing Finn with a sad gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” Finn winced again. 

She looked at Emily who stood wearing an expression of confusion and worry. Finn studied her, taking in her small stature, her little pink converse shoes, her blue jeans with a floral pattern stitched on the side, her blue shirt with more flowers decorating the fabric, her hair long, some of it tangled in knots, eerily enough, just like her when she was little. She felt a pang of guilt mixed with a bubble of fear in her chest again. 

Finn sat on the floor outside the bathroom, not wanting to hover but wanting to be close by in case Emily needed any help. Sure enough, within fifteen minutes, she heard the little girl calling for her, using a polite “Miss Julie?” like she had done at the station and all throughout the day. 

Finn sat up quickly, feeling her back twinge in pain from leaning against the wall outside the bathroom. She hovered outside the door and spoke through it, “Everything okay?” 

“Can you help me fix my hair?” Emily called out and Finn slipped into the bathroom. 

The child stood there in pajamas with a flower pattern, much like the other clothing items she owned, holding a brush and looking disheveled. Finn took the brush from her and started to work at the tangles and knots in her hair, slow, careful, delicate. The brush snagged on strands often and reminded Finn of her own hair struggles. Emily’s hair was much longer, falling past her lower back. 

“Your hair is pretty,” Finn complimented the shy girl, hoping to get her talking some more. 

“Mommy said so too,” Emily said, speaking of her mother for the first time. 

Finn bit her lip, wondering if she should keep talking about this or not. She stayed silent, working out the knots and tangles until Emily’s hair was smooth and tangle free. 

“All done,” Finn said to break the silence. 

“Thank you,” Emily said robotically. 

“So uh, what do you want to do now?” Finn asked and Emily shrugged. 

“What time do you usually go to bed?” Finn asked. 

Another shrug from the child who of course would have no concept of time at this age. 

“Right,” Finn said, setting the hair brush down on the sink “well how about some TV for a while and then bed?” 

This poor kid would have arthritis by the time she was ten if she shrugged her shoulders any more often. But Finn realized this must be a coping mechanism seeing as her life had been turned completely upside down in just one sad day. 

Finn guided Emily into the living room and helped her onto the couch. The pair sat together, Finn skimming through channels in search of something kid friendly to watch, finding that talking sponge show she had seen occasionally, turning to Emily and asking “Is this okay?” 

The girl nodded, clutching her stuffed dog to her chest as she watched the television, her feet dangling off the edge of the tall couch. Finn noticed little dog faces stitched into the child's socks and found that adorable. 

Within an hour, Finn noticed Emily yawn and rub her eyes. It was eight thirty and that seemed like a reasonable hour for a child to go to sleep. Finn gathered up a blanket from the chair, a pillow from the closet and started to arrange them on the couch into a makeshift bed. Emily watched Finn in silence, clinging to her stuffed dog. 

“All right,” Finn said when she had successfully arranged the bed, “you can have the TV for the night, you know where the bathroom is, if you need water or something, there’s cups on the counter and uh, well, if you need me for anything, my room is right there, I’ll leave my door open okay?” 

Emily could only stare at Finn, then move her eyes around the condo space, huddled in her pajamas and holding her stuffed dog. The silence was torture. Finn started walking backwards towards her bedroom as Emily climbed back onto the couch, laying down and covering herself with the blanket. 

11:30pm

Exhausted, Finn fell asleep after nine o’clock, arm tossed over her head, resting on the pillow, stretched out, completely melting into her bed. Subconsciously, her brain heard a squeaky floorboard, then a small hand on her arm, tugging gently. The motion shattered her wake/sleep state and she sat up in bed, confused for a moment before her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see the outline of Emily in her room. Finn practically fell out of the bed as she reached over to flip on the lights, rubbing her eyes, startled, disoriented. 

“What's wrong?” Finn immediately asked in a panic. 

“I can’t sleep,” Emily complained. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? I can fix you something. Do you want to watch TV?” Finn asked, rapid firing off options. 

Emily shook her head, rejecting all the suggestions, stating simply, cowering in front of the bed “I’m scared.” 

Finn could see the tears in the child’s eyes and her heart ached with sadness, unable to understand what might be tumbling through this child's head and heart right now and not having any clue how to help her. 

“I know,” Finn finally sighed “I’m sorry, I wish I could make this better for you, but I- I really don’t know how.” 

Emily’s bottom lip started to tremble and she squeezed her stuffed dog tighter to her chest. 

“It’s dark in there,” she complained of the living room. “I hear noises, on the roof and outside, I see shadow things, can I stay in here instead?” 

“Sure,” Finn said, turning down the covers and slipping out of the bed. 

She helped Emily crawl into the bed and tucked the covers in around her before turning to leave and take the couch for the night. 

“No!” Emily cried out, leaping out of the bed she had just been settled in, racing after Finn and latching on to her side “you can’t leave!” 

“I’ll be fine out there,” Finn said “I promise.”

“You can’t leave me!” the little girl cried harder and Finn realized what she wanted. 

Finn knelt down, prying the child's arms off her side, holding on to her tiny hands. 

“You want me to stay?” Finn asked again to be sure. 

“Please?” Emily begged, tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Okay,” Finn soothed, reaching out to wipe the tears away with her thumb “I’ll stay, no more tears okay?” 

She felt her own shaky unsteady hand tend to Emily’s tears, terrified of hurting her further. Emily pushed her way into Finn’s arms in an awkward hug, hiding in her chest, letting out a strangled cry, seeming to have held in her emotions until this moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Finn cried right back of every horrible thing that happened today “honey I’m so sorry.” 

She reached up and stroked her hair, patting her back gently, instinctively offering whatever comforts she could. 

“I want to go home” Emily sobbed “I want my mom and dad, I want my toys and my room, take me home!.” 

Even though the social worker and child psychologist had told Emily of her parents fate, she seemed confused about it still. 

“I wish I could,” Finn said, shaking “but your house isn’t safe right now, you have to stay here for a little while longer, but you’re safe here, I promise you.” 

Emily continued to cry and keep her arms wrapped tightly around Finn, burying her face in her chest. The only viable solution was for Finn to lift Emily into her arms and carry her back to the bed. Finn awkwardly climbed into the bed with Emily in her arms, laying her down but letting her stay wrapped up in her arms, cradling her against her chest. This was the most motherly she had ever been and it was terrifying. But she was all Emily had in this moment and she didn’t know what else to do. Finn felt herself involuntarily rocking the child, hoping the repetitive movements would soothe her. After several agonizing minutes, the little girl's cries subsided and silence fell over the room, with the exception of a single anguished cry Finn let out, startled by her own emotions in this moment. 

One Week Later

“Okay, what does the recipe say next?” Finn asked 

“Two cups of chocolate chips,” Emily read outloud, following the line on the page with her finger. 

“Okay,” Finn said, “here’s the measuring cup, can you show me where two cups is?” 

Emily traced her finger along the tiny red marking, indicating two cups. 

“Good girl,” Finn praised her “go ahead and pour them in.”

Emily tipped the bag of chocolate chip pieces into the clear plastic measuring cup. 

Finn helped her steady the bag upright, rewarding her by tipping a handful of candy into her tiny hand, helping herself to some as well. 

“This is fun,” Emily said, swinging her legs casually from where she sat up on the kitchen counter. 

“It’s really fun” Finn added to the sentiment, tapping Emily’s nose gently with her finger “I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

Fun had been such a sacred word now. After several agonizing days of mixed emotions from the child, Finn had finally gotten her somewhat comfortable. The social worker had still been unable to secure an open foster family for the orphaned child so Finn agreed to keep her under her care until a family could be found. In just that short week, Emily’s house had been cleared as an active crime scene, allowing her to bring most of her belongings here to Finn’s condo. Finn’s space went from books and work out equipment to toys, games, stuffed animals and a fold out dollhouse. Barbies scattered the coffee table and floor space in front of the dollhouse. Stuffed animals occupied the couch, chair and bed. Emily’s full wardrobe of clothes and shoes were tucked away in drawers and closets and the dull bathroom was now lit up with plastic water toys, colorful towels and hair ribbons and bows along with fruity shampoos in bottles with cartoon characters on them. 

Despite the fact that it was summer time, Finn wanted to make sure Emily didn’t fall behind on chances to learn, hence the cooking and measuring. Plus it was an excellent distraction from both of their seemingly endless fears and worries. Finn and Emily prepared the chocolate chip cookies, placing the rolled out dough into flat round shapes on a cookie sheet, then Finn slid the tray into the oven to bake. 

“Twenty minutes,” she explained “did you set the timer?”

Emily lifted up the white plastic timer where it was ticking the countdown. 

“It will be done at what time?” Finn tested her. 

She watched Emily raise her finger and count the numbers on the clock on the wall, squinting her eyes in concentration. 

“Ten thirty,” Emily answered correctly. 

Finn rewarded her with another handful of chocolate chips as they heard a knock at the door. 

Emily watched from up high on her seat at the counter as Finn opened the door. 

“Good news!” A cheery voice spoke and the social worker who had been assigned Emily’s case, known to her as “Miss Kelly” entered the foyer “we found a foster family!” 

Finn felt her heart sink into her stomach, an overwhelming sense of dread hitting her. 

“Really?” she stammered, standing numb in the foyer. 

“A wonderful couple,” Ms. Kelly explained “they have a son and a daughter and some cats, they have fostered for the county before but this time they are serious about adopting a third child.”

Finn looked behind her at Emily seated upon the counter looking confused. 

“Well, uh, that’s great,” Finn said, her hands curling into fists, fingernails digging into her palm, biting back tears, a strange ache in her chest burning. 

“They are ready to house her tonight,” Ms. Kelly continued “obviously we won’t be able to move everything over there in one go, but if you could pack up some stuff for Emily and we will come by during the week to get the rest.”

“But- we made cookies,” Finn protested, sounding like a child herself “does it have to be right now?” 

“The family is eager to meet her,” Ms. Kelly added walking over to the counter where Emily sat, “Hey kiddo, good news, we have a sweet mommy and daddy who are coming to meet you, they have a big house and a fun backyard with swings and a slide.”

“I have to leave?” Emily asked, her face mirroring Finn’s in concern, her mouth turning into a pout. 

“We found a home for you,” Ms. Kelly spoke softly to the confused child. 

Emily looked at Finn now, her blue eyes meeting hers, her hands curled up in her lap, she looked utterly terrified. 

“Why can’t I stay here?” Emily asked with her pout. 

“Oh honey, Ms. Julie is a very busy lady,” Ms. Kelly explained “she has a very important job to do, she’s been very nice helping us out but now it’s time to go.”

The social worker motioned for Emily who hopped down off the counter and walked over to her slowly, hesitant, looking up at Finn with a hurt gaze. 

Finn could not tear her eyes away from the interaction, the pain in her chest fitting to burst. The timer on the counter was ticking down the minutes incessantly. Finn looked around at the Barbie dolls and toys on her couch and tables, to the pink converse shoes in the corner placed directly next to her running shoes, to the drawing that hung on her fridge of a dog and some other animals that Emily had put there yesterday. 

The social worker had begun to help Emily scoop up some items into her duffle bag, the one she carried with her the first night she stayed here. Soon this would all be gone, empty, lonely, void of the life that had surprisingly sustained her over the last week. 

“Don’t!” Finn cried out, reaching her arm out to stop them, garnering odd looks from Emily and Ms. Kelly. 

“Don’t go,” she begged again “I- I mean- you can’t go-I-I want her to stay.”

The words came spilling out in a mess of stammers and shaky tones. 

“What?” Ms. Kelly asked, straightening up and gapping at Finn. 

“I want her,” Finn declared boldly and with confidence, hands curled into fists at her side. 

“You want me to stay?” Emily asked softly. 

“Yes,” Finn declared again “but only if you want to.” 

“I do, I do!” Emily gushed excitedly, charging at Finn who knelt down with open arms just in time to catch the little girl and lift her up with ease, balancing her on her hip. 

Ms. Kelly stepped forward, heels clicking on the hardwood floor, clearly annoyed but not entirely upset by this change. 

“You realize the implications of this, and the processes you’ll have to go through,” Ms. Kelly reminded Finn “of the family who now has to be told no, are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure?” 

“Yes,” Finn declared without hesitation, sliding her arms tighter around Emily, who lay her head on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her neck. 

Ms. Kelly smiled, knowing it wasn’t ideal, knowing the process would be grueling and thorough, but sensing something else driving these two together. 

“All right,” she said softly “let me make some calls, we’ll get the ball rolling for an adoption and full legal custody, I suggest you find a lawyer for extra support.”

“I will,” Finn promised as the timer for the cookies to be done pinged off. 

“Enjoy,” Ms. Kelly said, backing away and out of the condo, smiling, supportive, understanding “I’ll be in touch later.” 

When the door shut, Finn could feel her heart pounding furiously against her chest, yet all seemed right in the world, that sense of dread faded instantly. 

“Can we have cookies now?” Emily asked, piercing Finn with a beautiful blue eyed stare of pure innocence.

“Yes darling,” Finn soothed her, smoothing her hair back gently, hand still shaking with adrenaline at what she had just done. 

Finn abruptly set Emily back down on her own feet and went to retrieve the cookies from the oven. She set them on a rack to cool down, waving a potholder over them to speed up the process. Once cooled, she handed Emily some cookies on a plate and scooted her into the living room to watch TV. Stepping into the bedroom, Finn scooped up her cell phone, hands shaking as she dialed, stealing glances back into the living room at the little girl perched happily on the couch. He answered on the third ring. 

“Russell?” she called to him, trembling “guess what I did?”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know there are likely many legal hurdles to get to this point of adoption for Emily but I wanted to focus on the emotional aspect that got Finn to this place and allowed her to open her heart to this child.


End file.
